A Very Icy Slope
by HeyLegolas
Summary: Tino is on a skiing holiday when he bumps into Olympic hopeful Berwald (quite literally), and, of course, goes and falls in love with him. SuFin, DenNor moments.
1. Prologue

As Tino stood at the top of the slope, he questioned once again why he had decided to let his friends convince him to come. Tino on firm ground was one thing; Tino on _snow_... his inability to stay standing had reached an entirely new level.

"It's easy," Eduard shrugged, "you just kinda... go."

Tino and Raivis looked down the expanse of ice and snow nervously. Everyone else had at least gone skiing before- as Eduard and Toris took off down the mountainside, Tino couldn't help but admire their abilities to, well, not crash and die.

"Who is going next?" Neither of them noticed Ivan drifting silently towards them. The young Latvian recoiled. The Finn didn't especially want to spend too much time around Ivan either, to be perfectly honest.

"I will."

Deep breath.

Dig ski poles into the snow.

Push off.

The ground started to escape from under his feet. Gravity was making him go a bit faster than he was strictly comfortable with. The trees marking either side of the slope were becoming increasingly blurry. What was the terminal velocity of the average Finnish guy? Definitely faster than he had any desire to go. In an attempt to slow himself, he buried his poles into the snow. It would have worked perfectly, if he had kept hold of them.

And so Tino found himself hurtling down an Alp, deaf to the laughter of Toris, Eduard and Ivan, hoping that he wouldn't hit anything. His wish wasn't granted- after what felt like a lifetime of snow and ice and sky, he was stopped very suddenly. Whatever he hit must have been pretty big, he thought as he tried to open his tightly shut eyes. As he slowly regained his sight, he saw that he was not wrong. The thing he hit _was_ pretty big... and had blond hair, and extraordinarily blue eyes... and a very stern expression.


	2. Chapter 1

_Nyb__ö__rjare – Beginner, learner (Swedish)_

The last thing Berwald expected during practice was to be crashed into by a pole-less Finn. At least, he assumed that the flustered blond was Finnish, by the sound of his apologetic muttering. They stood, eyes locked for a moment, before Tino broke the contact, drawing back.

"You okay?" the Swede extended a hand, remembering his manners. Tino nodded and took it reluctantly, pulling himself up from the snow. There was something quite intimidating about the taller man; he didn't know whether it was his height (around six foot three, he predicted) or his cold expression. Or a combination of the two.

"Yes, thank you, I'm sorry, I just haven't done this before, and my friends took off without me..."

"This is a black slope."

Tino looked back at him blankly.

"Expert slope. You should've been on a green."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"Oi, Sve, we're waiting for you- who've you got here?" They were interrupted by another man, wearing red and black kit, who was hiking up the hill towards them.

"Crashed into me." Berwald responded. Tino apologised again. The new man laughed.

"I think these are yours. They nearly speared me, the speed they were coming down the hill. Don't apologise." He handed the Finn two beaten up ski poles.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Hey, I'm Matthias, Matthias Køhler, and I assume he hasn't introduced himself- Berwald Oxenstierna. He doesn't talk much, but he's not as scary as he looks."

"Tino Väinämöinen. Umm... you wouldn't be able to tell me where a green slope is, would you? My friends made me go down this one, but I've never actually been skiing before."

Matthias looked back at him, shocked. "They made you go down a bloody black slope when you've never skied before? Mate, I'd recommend that you got some new friends."

"This slope's not safe for a beginner." Berwald added.

"They're nice really, they're just... I don't know."

"I'll tell you what," Matthias reasoned, "Come back and have dinner with my lot. We can teach you properly tomorrow."

Tino's face lit up. "Is that okay? I'd love to!"

Matthias and Berwald hadn't come alone. At the bottom of the slope they introduced Tino to their coach, Lukas Bondevik, a Norwegian who only spoke a little more than Berwald, and his younger brother Emil, who had joined them as it was his school's half-term holiday.

The group made a quick detour to Berwald, Matthias, Lukas and Emil's lodge to drop off their equipment before heading to a restaurant a few miles away. The lodge was divided into three bedrooms (who had to share, he didn't know), all carved wood and layers of quilts. As Tino stripped off his leggings in the hallway, he noticed a huge tear down the left leg.

"Damn," he breathed, "these are Eduard's. He'll go nuts."

"Serve's 'im right for making you go down that slope." Berwald responded. Tino jumped. He hadn't realised that the Swede had emerged from his room.

"Oh! Err, yeah, I guess so."

"Here," Berwald offered him a plastic carrier bag, "for your clothes."

"Thanks."

Tino noticed that he had changed out of his skiing gear and into a more casual combination of jeans and a knitted jumper. He looked less intimidating, but no less emotionless.

During the car ride to the restaurant, Tino's phone buzzed no less than seventeen times.

"You might want to answer that," Lukas suggested from the driver's seat, "probably your friends, wandering where you are."

As he took out his phone and unlocked it, Emil and Matthias leaned in from either side of him to look at the worn screen.

_Tino, where are you? – Toris_

_Tino, I'm sorry we made you go down that slope. It wasn't cool. – Eduard_

_Where are you? I'm sorry. – Toris_

_Tino where are you everyone's really worried please reply – Raivis_

_Please don't be alone and freezing to death – Toris_

_If you don't come back can I have your stuff? – Eduard_

_If you're not back by tomorrow we're sending out a search party. – Ivan_

_I'm really really sorry oh god i hope you're ok –Raivis_

He didn't bother opening the other nine messages. They were all likely to be the same. He turned his phone off and stuck it back in his jacket pocket.

"Where the hell were you?" Tino came back from the restaurant to a slightly angry, tired looking Eduard. Toris and Ivan joined him quickly when they heard the Estonian, and Raivis promptly barrelled down the hall and flung his arms around Tino's waist, sobbing about how we was worried that Tino was alone and freezing in the mountains.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I just... bumped into some guys on the slope and went to have some food with them. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Hang on, wait, you just met some people and then _had dinner with them_?"

"Okay, guys, I'm tired- I'm just going to go to bed now, okay? Here's your leggings. They have a rip in them from when I _fell down the side of a mountain_." Tino pushed the carrier bag into Eduard's chest before storming to his room.

"Tino? Are you still awake?" The small Latvian crept into their shared room. He sounded no less nervous than usual.

"Yeah, I'm awake."

"Tino I'm really sorry-"

"You didn't do anything. I'm not mad at you, you're fine. I'm just kinda annoyed at Toris and Eduard for taking me down a black slope. They know that I've never been before."

"What were the people you met like?" Raivis propped himself up on his bed on his elbows. This was beginning to turn into some kind of gossip session.

"The Danish guy was nice. Matthias. A bit hyper, but cool. There was a Norwegian, Lukas, and his little brother, they were a bit quiet, but they were pretty nice too."

"Yeah? Which one was the guy you crashed into?"

Tino groaned. "You saw that?"

"Yeah."

"He's Swedish. Really tall. Kinda scary looking, but... I don't know. He seems quite sweet, really."

"What's his name?"

"Berwald... something. Quite an unusual surname."

"Oxenstierna?" Raivis' eyes grew wide.

"Yeah, that's it. What...?"

"Tino, you do realise who you just had dinner with, right?"

"No?"

Raivis was practically bouncing by now.

"You just met _Berwald Oxenstierna and Matthias Køhler_! Tino, they're, like, Olympic biathletes!"


	3. Chapter 2

_Naturligtvis – Of course, Naturally (Swedish)_

Tino left the lodge at a horrendously early hour_. _Armed with skis, map of the resort and new leggings borrowed from Raivis ("_please don't rip these ones!_"), he made his way across the fresh expanse of snow.

When he arrived at the agreed slope, the others were already waiting for him. Berwald and Matthias stood out from the families and groups of school kids bustling around them- their beaten-up kit of blue and yellow and red and black respectively seemed to radiate experience and practice.

"Morning, Tino!" the Dane waved and began making his way through a passing crowd to meet him. Berwald sighed, waved wordlessly and followed his friend. Tino could feel his face burning. Maybe he was coming down with something.

"Question," Tino yawned, "why did we have to come out here so early?"

"Less crowded." Berwald shrugged. Matthias was already making his way over to the ski lifts.

"Where are Lukas and Emil?"

"Day off."

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't know that you were doing this in you free time-"

"'s fine. I... wanted to teach you." The tall Swede turned his head. They completed the short walk to the ski lifts wordlessly.

"I thought biathlons were cross country skiing." Tino questioned

"They are. Keep your balance-"

"Why were you on the steep slopes?"

"Do you know how boring cross country skiing is? Going fast down a slope is much more fun. Look where you're going- and that's why you have to concentrate." Matthias shook his head as he helped Tino up for the third time in an hour. The corners of Berwald's mouth twitched upwards.

"Try again." The bespectacled man instructed him. Tino sighed.

A week had passed since Tino had collided with the silent Swede. He was fascinated by him- he still found him mildly terrifying, but he had also reached a new level of respect for the man, as while he spoke less than twenty words every lesson, whatever teaching method he was using was working.

It was noon by the time they trudged back to lodges, but to Tino it felt a lot later. Three hours of focusing on where his centre of gravity was and walking up hills was, unsurprisingly, tiring.

"Do you want to have coffee at ours?" Denmark offered as they opened the door to their lodge. Tino nodded enthusiastically. He hovered awkwardly near the kitchen table, unsure whether to sit down or not.

"You can sit down, you know." Emil's head popped round the door.

"Oh, thank you." Tino took a seat. Matthias threw himself down at the head of the table, and Emil placed himself opposite to Tino. Berwald stood at the kitchen counter, arranging mugs and filling the kettle.

"Ah, you're back." Lukas emerged into the kitchen just as Berwald was setting steaming mugs of tea and coffee in front of their drinkers.

"He was pretty good." Matthias said, just before he sipped his coffee too quickly and burned his tongue.

"Not really. I fell over every five minutes." Tino shrugged. It was true.

Lukas and Emil both half-smiled.

"Weren't that bad," Berwald reasoned, "Seen worse."

Tino inwardly thanked him. He really wasn't as scary as he seemed.

"So how did all you guys meet up in the first place?" Tino asked on his third mug of coffee. Allowing Matthias to have more than one probably wasn't a good idea- he was metaphorically bouncing off the walls.

"We used to be really big rivals, me and Ber, you know, the whole Sweden vs Denmark deal, and Lukas used to be just his coach but then we started fu-"

"Then I _saw your potential _and _offered to coach you_." The Norwegian quickly corrected him, looking slightly shifty.

"Yeah, that, so we kinda had to put up with each other but now we're, like, best buds, right Ber?"

"Hmm." The Swede looked to Tino and mouthed "nope" at him. Tino tried to stop himself from laughing.

"Tino, I need to have a word with you." The Norwegian man followed the Finn outside. The snow had began to fall a little heavier now, and they thought it wise that Tino should make his way home before they got snowed in.

"Uh, sure. What is it?"

"I'll walk with you."

"My lodge isn't very far away."

"I'll make it quick, then," Lukas took a moment to gather his words, "It's quite tricky, y'know, with Berwald, 'cos he doesn't reveal a lot, but after you know him for a while, you can kinda pick up on these things- he's taken quite a shine to you. Which is kinda weird, because, well, he's Berwald."

"What does that mean?" Tino was puzzled.

"Well, most people are so fricking terrified of him that he doesn't have a chance to... well, get to know people."

Tino felt a pang of sadness for the Swede. He had probably spent a lot of his life lonely because of his trouble in conveying emotion.

"What I'm saying is... don't get in the way, okay?"

That wasn't what Tino had expected. At all.

"What?"

"He's going for the Olympics, Tino. As his coach... he doesn't need to be distracted, okay? Just... don't. Don't try anything."

And with that, the mysterious Norwegian turned on his heel and left Tino out in the snow, shocked and lost for words.

"So? How did it go?" Raivis asked. This was turning into the second gossip session in the space of a week.

"I didn't fall over this time," Tino sighed, flopping down onto his bed and pulling off his boots, "And I went another day without ripping your leggings."

"Well done."

"Also Berwald's coach told me to not distract him, whatever that means."

"Wait, what? Why?"

Tino shrugged.

"Apparently he kinda likes me, and is going for the Olympics this year. Obviously having any kind of positive opinion about someone makes them distracting."

"Wait, is this a like or a _like_?"

"How should I know?"

"You fancy him!" the fifteen year old Latvian smirked.

"...Naturally." Tino sighed.


	4. Chapter 3

_Fryst – Frozen (Swedish)_

For three days, Tino kept a safe distance from the four Nordic men. The snow kept on falling, but Tino couldn't stop thinking.

_This is ridiculous. You've literally only known him for a week. You only have a few more days here. You'll never speak to him again. Forget him._

On the eleventh day of their holiday, Tino and Raivis decided to try out a blue slope. It was steeper and narrower than the green, but it didn't look terrifying.

"Remember to balance." Tino shouted after the Latvian as he glided over the snow. Raivis was pretty good, when he got over his nerves and anxiety.

"_HINO! HEWP ME PEASE!" _Just as the Finn was about to have a go, someone shouted for him. They sounded like their tongue had been removed.

"Where are you?"

"OFER HERE, I'M STU-"

Tino started making his way through a crowd of people, over to a lamp post where the noise was coming from. As he approached, he heard other voices too.

"I told you not to, idiot."

"Hewp, pease?"

"Nope. You got yourself into this mess, I told you not to- oh hey, Tino, I though I could hear you."

"You guys?"

Matthias, Emil, Lukas and Berwald were all gathered around the lamppost. As he approached, he burst out laughing.

"THNOT PHUNNY!" Matthias' tongue was stuck to frozen lamppost- _so that's why he's speaking so weirdly_. "Ber laughin at me ith bad enough!"

Tino looked over to the Swede. He wasn't laughing, as such, but there was an undeniable smile on his face.

"His fault." Berwald shrugged.

"You dared me!" Matthias retaliated.

"The point is, you were the one stupid enough to actually do it." Lukas shook his head.

"Are we going to unstick him at any point today?" Tino asked.

"Guess so. Matthias, can't you just… pull yourself off?" Lukas suggested.

"He'd rip his tongue off." Emil pointed out.

The five of them puzzled over their predicament- some more patiently than others- until Berwald came up with an idea.

"Hands."

"Pardon?"

"Warm the pole. It'll melt the ice."

Everyone jumped into action, taking off their gloves and placing them on the pole.

"Matthias, you should really brush your tongue or something, it's disgusting."

"Bro, it's been down your throat enough times-"

"_Emil._"

"Sorry. But it's true-"

Tongue unstuck – "I am never listening to you guys again" – Matthias, Berwald and Emil thanked Tino for his help and began to trudge off to wherever they were meant to be going. Lukas, however, hung back.

"Tino, about what I said the other day-"

"It's fine, I understand, no distractions, whatever-"

"No, listen," Lukas looked down at his feet, "I'm sorry. What I said was uncalled for. It's just- we're under a lot of pressure at the minute. I just want them to do well, but… I guess I get a bit too serious sometimes.

I know Matt and Ber want to go for the Winter Olympics, and maybe this year would be their chance, but… biathlon is made of two sections. Their skiing is great. They're amazing. But they really need to improve their shooting and accuracy if they want to make it. It's not too long before some of the qualifying stages now, and we're all quite stressed out over it.

So… sorry. What I said was wrong. They've both shown me what they thought…" Lukas smiled grimly, "so… would you like to come to practice with us? That's where we were heading, before, y'know."

Tino's mind went into overdrive with this new information. Did this mean they could keep in contact and stuff?

"I'd love to!" Tino smiled as brightly as he did on the first day he met the crazy biathletes.

Tino stood in the snow with Lukas and Emil outside what appeared to be a shooting range. The Norwegian took out his stopwatch and checked it.

"They should be here anytime… now!" Right on cue, Berwald Oxenstierna appeared over the crest of the hill, Matthias Køhler right behind him.

"Now they have to shoot the targets. If they miss one, they have to do a penalty loop." Emil explained.

Just as they got to the shooting range, the two Scandinavians simultaneously pulled the rifles from their backs and threw themselves down at their places. Fifty metres in front of them were five targets each.

"What they need to do now is get their pulse rate down and stay as steady as possible." Lukas almost whispered as to not break the silence. The first shot went off, closely followed by the second. There was a metallic clang as both targets were hit.

The men's faces were blank with concentration. Berwald looked as cold and menacing as ever as he aimed his rifle for the second, third, fourth shot. All resulted in the metallic sound of a hit target.

Matthias, meanwhile, was not having so much luck. His third shot had missed its target. His face was twisted in frustration as he aimed for the next. Hit. Relief washed over his face.

All of a sudden Berwald was up, rifle on his back, poles back in hand and was making his way back along the track. He had hit all of his targets. No penalty loop for the Swede. Lukas held his arm out, signalling for him to wait. He drifted to a stop next to Tino and pulled his woollen hat off, brushing his hair back out of his face.

"That was really cool." Tino couldn't help but smile.

"Thanks." The taller man replied.

There was another clanging sound. Matthias had hit his last target.

"Matthias, game plan talk." Lukas invited the Dane over to discuss tactics.

"Hold this a minute." Matthias dumped his rifle in Tino's arms. He stumbled forwards a step or two; it was heavier than he expected.

"Want to have a go?" Berwald asked out of nowhere.

"Err… yeah? Sure."

The Swede led him over to the mats in the shooting range.

"Load like this," Berwald pulled the bolt on the side of the rifle back, and slid in a new round, before pushing the bolt forwards again. Tino copied and Berwald nodded in approval, but his face didn't change from his neutral expression. "Hands here," the Swede gently took Tino's right hand and wrapped it around the grip, with his index finger safely outside the trigger guard. "Other hand- there. Do not touch the barrel."

"Like this?" Tino asked. Berwald nodded. The butt of the rifle was locked under his shoulder, the sling wrapped around his left arm.

"Remove the safety- go."

Tino fired a shot. It hit. Lukas, Matthias and Emil looked up at them.

Another shot. Hit.

"Looking good, Tino!" Matthias shouted. It sounded like his tongue still hurt from earlier.

Two more shots. Two more hits.

"Tino, you're not allowed to beat me! That's not fair!"

_Clang_.

"Just did."

The four men were awe-struck.

"How…?" Lukas began.

"It took me ten years of training to get here, and you're better than me in five minutes!" the Dane couldn't believe it.

_I'm so not telling them that it's because I play a lot of paintball_, Tino thought and handed Matthias' gun back, smiling.


	5. Chapter 4

_Avsked – Farewell (Swedish)_

"Tino, you really have to stop wondering off with Nordic men!"

"You make it sound worse than it is."

"You _left me _to ski by myself! I thought that you'd been abducted or something, I was panicking-"

"Raivis, I'm sorry, really. Hey- why are you packing?"

The teenage Latvian had stopped ranting and had resumed packing his suitcase.

"Because we're leaving tomorrow?"

"... Oh." Tino started picking dirty clothes off of the floor, crestfallen. His chances of seeing the quiet Swede and his friends again were decreasing dramatically.

Berwald was woken early on Saturday morning by the doorbell. He glanced at the alarm clock by his bed- _who the hell visits at six in the morning?_

He rolled out of bed with a groan, and strolled sleepily into the hallway. No one else had been awakened by the early visitor.

When he unlocked and opened the door he was immediately rugby tackled by the Finn who had crashed into him nearly two weeks before.

"Huh?" was all that the Swede could utter before Tino began his torrent of words.

"Berwald we're leaving today and I don't want to go and I'm going to miss you loads and I'll miss Matthias and Emil and Lukas and thank you for teaching me to shoot a proper rifle and I love you." Tino stopped suddenly. _Perkele_. He wasn't meant to say that last bit. He looked up worriedly at the Swede's face. He didn't look pissed off or angry or anything- just kinda shocked. They stared at each other, wordless. That was when Tino realised that they were still on the carpeted floor, the Finn's arms around the taller man's waist.

"Ber, are you alright? I heard something crashing and- oh." Lukas skidded around the corner of the corridor, tailed by Matthias.

"Are you two having a moment?" the Dane raised an eyebrow and his lips curved into a devilish grin.

"No! Umm... I'm leaving today, so I came to say... bye." Tino picked himself up from the ground. Berwald still hadn't said a word as he, too, stood.

"What, you can't leave!" Matthias leapt forwards to give the Finn a hug. Lukas grabbed the back of his pyjamas, stopping his student.

"He was on holiday, Matt, it's not like he was going to stay here forever."

"Who's gonna teach me how to shoot like a badass Finnish dude now? Hey I need some paper- here's my mobile, Skype, Email, Facebook, hell, you can even have my Tumblr- it's just a load of memes and cat gifs-"

"Matthias, calm the fuck down, you woke me up..." Emil wandered out of his room, wrapped in his duvet like a burrito.

A car pulled up outside. They could see through the still open door that Ivan was driving.

"Tino? The flight's in three hours, we have your stuff." Toris called out of the passenger window.

"Okay, I'll only be a minute," he called back, and turned to the four Nordics, "I have to say, this was the most interesting holiday I've ever been on."

"I hope we meet again, Tino." Lukas called as the Finn turned to go.

Berwald reached out almost instinctively to catch Tino's arm. He wanted to say something, but as he looked into Tino's shining eyes, all words disappeared. He just stood with a sad expression and let go of his arm.

It had been two months since Tino had been dropped back home in Finland. October had faded into November and then December, and Tino had returned to his job as psychologist-in-training. He followed the doctor he was shadowing, Dr Mäkelä, into her room.

"We have the guy with the separation anxiety in again today, Tino." She said while sorting out some of the papers on her desk.

"Oh, Mr Kukkanen? Viljo Kukkanen?"

"That's the one. You know, he told me after our last session that you were one of the best students that he had ever met."

"Really? Well, I try my hardest to be as good as I can."

Doctor Mäkelä chuckled and summoned their first patient of the day.

The day had crawled along slowly, until the older psychologist came in with unexpected news.

"Hey Tino, you speak English fluently, right? There's a guy who's just come in, doesn't speak a word of Finnish, but it sounds like his English is pretty good. Do you want to take him?"

"Yeah, sure. Are you going to observe, or...?"

"No, I'll take someone else. Your first unsupervised patient!" She smiled before wishing him luck. Tino liked Dr Mäkelä. She was the one who had gotten him into psychology in the first place.

Tino couldn't believe who then walked into the room.

"...Tino?"

"_Emil_? What... why... you're in Finland?"

The Finn and the younger Nordic looked each other up and down for a moment.

"Would you like to take a seat?" Tino finally managed to ask. His head was spinning. Emil wouldn't go anywhere without Lukas, and if Lukas was in Finland, that meant Matthias and _Berwald _were too...

"Are you going to look at me with the vacant expression all day?"

"Oh, right, sorry. Emil... what's bothering you?"

Emil sighed.

"Uh... do you know what it's like, living with two Olympians? All the attention's on them. Everywhere we go, whatever we do, everything is always _Matthias _and _Berwald_... hell, even _Lukas_ is pretty famous, he was gonna be a skier too, before he had an accident. I'm just... feeling pretty ignored. I don't know. It's like I'm not special, and I don't have achievements to be proud of, because everything I do is drowned out by them doing something even better.

"I just... it's getting too much, you know? I just wanted to talk to someone."

Tino felt sorry for Emil. He'd been an only child, so every one of his own achievements was acknowledged and not overshadowed.

"I'm glad you came in. Hey, do you think talking to your brother would help at all?"

Emil shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"I take it that all of you guys are in Finland?"

"I take it that you want to go see everyone?"

"I've missed you lot." Tino smiled and stood from his chair. Emil mirrored him.

"We've missed you, too."

**A/N (ignore me) – I did this when I was half asleep, so if it reads like a load of rubbish, I apologise. Anyway, my friend and I were discussing the affects of having a successful sibling or family on a less talented person, so that got my brain thinking about Lukas and Emil in this fic... and yeah, that happened. Also I needed a way of them meeting up again, and Denmark turning up at Tino's door like "hey I looked up your address in the phonebook" probably wouldn't be the best idea!**


	6. Chapter 5

_Tillsammans - Together, Hand-in-hand (Swedish)_

"You'll never guess who I saw today." Emil found Lukas by the shooting range. Training had been increased dramatically to prepare for that weekend's biathlon. Berwald and Matthias were fixated on placing in this event above all others; this was the final qualifying event before the athletes were chosen for a chance at competing at the Winter Olympics. It was, understandably, a bit deal for them.

"Santa Claus?" the Norwegian didn't lift his eyes from the stopwatch.

"No, better."

"Who?"

"Tino. The one we met in the Alps. The one Ber-"

"Yeah, I know who Tino is. I didn't know he was from _this _bit of Finland."

Matthias and Berwald appeared over the brow of the hill, just in front of their target time. They didn't shoot from the 'prone' position on this lap, but stayed standing; in the individuals they would do five laps and shoot four times, in the order of prone, standing, prone, standing, to total twenty targets over twenty kilometres. If they missed a target, they would get a one-minute penalty.

"Yeah, he is! You guys aren't going to practise all day tomorrow, are you?" Emil asked hopefully, "I asked him if he wanted to come round tomorrow-"

"Last lap, well done you two!" Lukas called out to the skiers as they slung their rifles onto their backs and began to glide away from the range, "Emil, you know tomorrow is prep day."

"And you know that prep day just gets everyone overly stressed and we always need an extra pair of hands."

Lukas sighed. "Fine."

Emil smiled to himself. Victory.

"So the event's on Sunday? And you're driving down tomorrow, so you have Saturday free to train… you need to pack three day's worth of stuff." Tino had gone into his organised, almost motherly mode that he didn't know he had. Berwald couldn't believe that the same person could hit five two-inch wide targets at fifty metres first time.

The pile of gear in the middle of the living room floor was already big without all of their clothes. There was Lukas' briefcase, full of important papers and passports and passes to get in, among other necessary articles; skis, ski poles, spares of both; stopwatches, torches, an assortment of spare batteries; other stuff, buried too deep under the mound to be seen. They were taking a lot of stuff.

"Yes sir!" Matthias mock-saluted and jumped up from the floor to pack his clothes. Emil looked pointedly at Tino and also left the room. Oh, right. That.

"Lukas, I need to talk to you."

"Uh… should I go?" Berwald asked, slightly confused.

"You don't need to," Tino shrugged, "it's about Emil."

The Swede stood anyway.

"What's up with Emil?" Lukas asked. He looked concerned.

"Umm… I'm training to be a psychologist, and Emil came in to the clinic I'm working at yesterday."

"Why? Is there anything wrong with him?"

"He just wanted to talk to someone. He feels overshadowed by you guys, Lukas. He feels worthless because he isn't as successful as you and Matthias and Berwald."

Lukas sank back into his chair and exhaled. "That explains a lot. He doesn't want to come with us and watch the qualifiers. He's going to his friend's this weekend instead."

"His self esteem is pretty low. Just make sure that he knows he's appreciated, and good at stuff outside skiing."

The Norwegian nodded. "Thank you, Tino."

"That's okay! I'm just glad I can help you guys," Tino switched from professional and serious back to his normal cheerful expression, "I've got time off this weekend, if you need an extra pair of hands."

"You'll have to pretend to be Emil."

Tino didn't know whether Lukas was joking or not.

Lukas wasn't joking.

"They won't talk to you, but if they do, your name is Emil Steilsson, you are seventeen and your birthday is June the seventeenth, got it?"

"Um… okay?" Tino was getting nervous already.

"'T's okay. They'll just want to talk to Lukas." Berwald tried to be reassuring. Tino nodded but didn't look much better.

Lukas gave the appropriate paperwork when asked by an official on the gates to the competitor's area. He looked them over, seemed to approve, and gave the papers back along with the keys to their lodge, ID cards for each of them and a parking ticket that would last them the weekend.

As they pulled away, Matthias leaned back from the passenger side front seat.

"See? Didn't get arrested or in trouble, did we?"

Being the only one with his hands free (Matthias and Lukas were carrying their own bags, and Berwald had insisted on taking Tino's as well as his own), it was Tino who fitted the key into the lock of their lodge and pushed the door open. It was also Tino who spotted the problem.

"Guys?"

"Yeah?" Matthias dumped all of his stuff down in the hallway. Lukas glared at the Dane.

"There's only two rooms."

Lukas and Matthias looked at each other like school children look at each other when the teacher tells them to pick a partner.

"Yeah, this is kinda turning into a tradition," Lukas sighed, "the first year we came here, it was just me and Ber, so they put two rooms… and I don't think the people in charge of the rooms actually talk to the people in charge of the entries at all, because every year they still only put two rooms."

"It's not just us though, it's everyone. Sometimes they put separate beds, which is a plus," Matthias tried to make the best of the situation, "But shotgun sleeping with Lu."

The Swede and the Finn looked at each other hesitantly.

"Hey, Berwald?"

"Mm?"

"You excited?"

It must have been around two in the morning. Neither of them had really been able to sleep. Berwald was balancing on the very edge of the bed, trying not to make Tino uneasy. Tino's brain was still trying to process the fact that he was sharing a bed with _Berwald_, of all people.

"Yeah… nervous."

"Really?" Berwald could hear Tino shifting around to face him, "also why are you so far over there?"

"Didn't want t'make you feel… uncomfortable," the Swede turned to face the shorter man, "and yes. I'm nervous."

"You don't look it."

"I never look it. Doesn't mean 'm not."

"You're kinda sweet really, aren't you?" Tino half smiled. There was silence.

"Tino?"

"Yeah?"

"The day you left..." Berwald's curiosity got the better of him, "you said..."

_Oh no oh no oh no, _Tino was nearly screaming at himself internally, _he heard, he remembered, he knows, what do I do... please, brain, don't mess this up_... He took a deep breath.

"Yeah."

**A/N- sorry if this chapter makes no sense or feels weird, I've only been sleeping for like seven hours a night for the past week and I've been home alone so I've pretty much forgotten how real humans interact with each other… but yeah I hope this wasn't too bad!**

**Also now Sve is speaking more I'll tell you that I refuse to write in Su-san speak, because really he only drops vowels occasionally and I h'te wr'tt'n' l'ke th's.**


	7. Chapter 6

_Spänning – Tension, Excitement, Strain (Swedish)_

_Toive – Hope, Wish, Desire (Finnish)_

Berwald's brain was in overdrive as he approached the start line. This wasn't unusual before a biathlon; his thoughts were adrenaline fuelled, he was going over his game plan, concentrating on the competition. Today, though, confused feelings about a certain Finn also occupied his mind.

The competitor before him was released- an American. That gave him thirty seconds to get his thoughts together.

"Berwald Oxenstierna, number three hundred and eighty three, for Sweden?" an official asked. Twenty.

Berwald nodded, adjusting the rifle's position on his back. The official scribbled something down on his clipboard. Ten.

The American was out of sight by now. The Swede's mind was blank.

"And you may go on the bell."

"Berwald's just gone." Lukas checked with an official and came back to Tino and Matthias.

"Should I go now? I have five minutes."

"Yeah, go. Remember the plan, okay? If you're going to miss targets, be fast enough to make up for it-"

"-but don't run out of energy. I've got this." The Dane was hyperactive as ever; a stark contrast to the Swede, who had been as quiet and seemingly emotionless as ever before departing.

"Good luck, Matthias!" Tino called out as the man dressed in red and black made his way to the start.

"We should get to the shooting range to watch them come in," Lukas suggested, "Berwald's first lap should take around twelve minutes, if that."

The course was surprisingly packed- it was mainly the competitor's teams that lined the marked route, but a lot of local people had also turned out to support their favourites.

"What's the qualifying time?" Tino asked.

"It's not so much as a qualifying _time_, they just have to place well. To get on the team they need to have done well at a load of important biathlons. This is the last one they need to do."

"And let me guess," Tino planted his freezing hands in his pockets, "this is their last chance? If they mess this up, it's game over?"

"They _won't _mess up," Lukas glanced coldly at his stopwatch, "but technically, yes."

The after-party was a tradition, thrown by a group of Australians after every biathlon they attended. Competitors and teams who had considered their performance worthy of celebration would smuggle six-packs of beer, bottles of vodka, or anything alcoholic they could find into the Australian team's lodge for a night of intoxication and merriment. Teams who were disappointed with themselves would usually return to their own accommodation and pack for the next day's journey home.

When Lukas checked the official times and told the three others to get changed for tonight, they were ecstatic.

"Everyone chip in for drinks, I'm going into town to get some. Coming, Lu?" Matthias had changed out of his skiing gear quickly, and was now wearing jeans and a hideous jumper. In fact, everyone's jumpers were. Apparently that was the fashion on the biathlon circuit.

"Yeah, I'm coming." Lukas pulled on some tall boots. Berwald and Tino pulled out their wallets to contribute to the booze fund.

"Wish us luck." Matthias grinned as he and Lukas ran out into the hailstorm that Tino hadn't noticed had started.

Tino and Berwald stood in the hallway for a few seconds, before the Swede broke the silence.

"That flower in your wallet."

Tino was taken by surprise. He opened it again, and looked down at the little white pressed flower.

"Oh, this?" Tino took it out and showed Berwald, "I found it when I went skiing. I just kinda wanted something to remember the trip by." _And you by_, he thought, _because I thought I'd never get to see you again_.

"_Linnaea Borealis_."

"Sorry?"

"Latin name. It's the national flower of Sweden."

"Oh, I didn't know that! That's a coincidence, isn't it?" Tino tucked the flower back into the wallet.

The Swede and the Finn hadn't spoken since the night when they had shared a room. On Saturday he had been summoned to the competitor's briefing, and then trained for the rest of the day before he turned in early. When Tino had gone to bed, he was at the very edge, like the night before. When the Finn had awoken, the taller man had already started breakfast. Lukas had told him that we was 'in the zone', and probably wouldn't talk much, if at all.

"Ber?"

"Mm?"

"Well done. For today... _Voi Luoja! _You're going to the Olympics!" The thought almost seemed surreal before that point when the sudden realisation came crashing over them.

"I... I am!"

Two unexpected events followed. First: the Swede smiled. Not an amused turning up of the corners of his mouth; a genuine smile. Tino was taken aback for a second. But the next action was even more surprising: Berwald stepped forwards and hugged him.

The music was loud, the Australians were loud, the colours of the drinks were loud. What was in them, Tino didn't know, but they tasted good, whatever they were.

"So, what's the plan?" Tino asked on his second drink, when all they had done was sit around a coffee table.

"We get very drunk," Matthias took a swig of bright blue liquid, "then we get Mr Sweden over there very drunk."

"Why?"

"Because he's the most hilarious drunk I've ever seen. Doesn't shut up, and hell, he can dance."

Tino glanced over to Berwald. The Swede shrugged back at him and half smiled.

An hour into the party, Lukas and Matthias had wandered off. The drinks had started to take effect, and Tino had somehow convinced Berwald to join him on the 'dance floor'- the dining room with all the furniture pushed back to the walls.

"Ber, I _love _this song!" the Finn pulled on his sleeve and started to do some form of disco dance in the middle of the room. Berwald couldn't deny it- Tino was a terrible dancer. And yet he couldn't take his eyes off of him; the smile plastered on his face made him look beautiful, despite his questionable dancing skills.

The Swede couldn't quite believe it a night ago when the Finn had told him that he meant what he said. He had sat up, speechless, watching fear, then embarrassment, grow over the younger man's face, before he hastily buried his face in his pillow.

The sensible thing to have done in this situation would be to tell Tino that he shared these feelings, which was the truth; but just then, his brain and mouth stopped cooperating, and Berwald sat wordless in pitch darkness.

Tonight, though, as he watched Tino, his fear of embarrassment washed away. _Yeah, tonight I'll tell him... if everything goes wrong, chances are neither of us will remember tomorrow._

"Tino, umm-"

"Hey, do you know where Lukas and Matthias have gone? Oh, its okay, there they are."

And that's when they saw the Norwegian and the Dane making out against a wall.


	8. Chapter 7

_Saga _– _Fairytale_

When Tino and Berwald woke up, the first thing they noticed was that they were both fully dressed, thank god. This was quickly followed by the realisation that they were cuddled together under the duvet, limbs intertwined, foreheads touching. Neither made any attempt to move away; Tino just smiled, and he could tell that Berwald was doing the same on the inside.

"Hey, Ber?" Tino asked after a few blissful moments, "Do you remember last night the same as I remember last night?"

"Hope so. 't was great."

"Mine was pretty amazing too."

It was a pretty good, as parties went. Neither the Finn nor the Swede especially liked loud social gatherings, being introverted, but last night definitely had its perks. The main one, of course, being when Berwald had summoned up the courage to tell Tino how he felt, and Tino confirmed that he felt the same way. The second best moment was seeing Lukas and Matthias' faces after they realised that half the room was watching their very public displays of affection.

"Hey, Tino?"

"Yeah?"

"_Rakastan sinua_."

"Hey, I didn't know you spoke Finnish!" The Finn's surprise made the taller man smile.

"I speak _that _bit of Finnish."

"Hey, Berwald?"

"Yeah?"

"_Jag älskar dig_."

"Didn't know you spoke Swedish." The Swede replied with a small smile.

"I speak _that_ bit of Swedish."

The light flooding through the window was soft and golden. The two men lay still and listened to a robin singing outside. At that moment, Tino and Berwald both realised that they were both _happy_.

"Tino, it's been _months!_" The Latvian put his mobile on speakerphone as his three other flatmates gathered around.

"Stuff happened, sorry. Are the others there?"

"Eduard, Toris and Vanya? Yep, they're here!"

There was an assortment of greetings in the background. Tino would have grinned, if he wasn't already beaming.

"Okay, well, turn on the TV and go to channel two."

"The Olympics? It's a medal ceremony."

"Yeah, it is. Do you recognise anyone?"

There was a moment of silence before the phone erupted with noise. It took a good few seconds before any voices became distinguishable.

"TINO, IT'S THE GUY YOU WENT OFF WITH ON HOLIDAY!" Raivis practically screamed down the phone, "AND HIS FRIEND TOO!"

Tino was laughing so hard he barely noticed the television camera slowly scanning the stands. When Tino was caught in shot, the shouting down the phone grew yet louder.

"Yeah, I should explain myself," the Finn sighed, "after I came back from holiday I met those guys again, and then I went to help them at an event, and long story short... the Olympic gold medallist for the men's individual biathlon is my boyfriend."

Tino hung up before his friends could deafen him. He looked back down to the podiums, and his heart beat just a little faster. Towering above everyone even more so than usual, on the highest pedestal, was Berwald Oxenstierna of Sweden. As he waited for the medals to be awarded, he joked with the silver medallist- Matthias Køhler of Denmark. The Swede fiddled with something in his hand as he spoke with his friend, and Tino could see, even from far away in the stands with Emil, what it was.

His little lucky _Linnaea Borealis, _the flower of Sweden.

**A/N – so there we have it. This is the end, and first I must thank all of those who followed, favourited and reviewed- whenever I get feedback it makes my day! I've decided to finish this fic because I have so many ideas, and I would hate to start a new project and leave this one unfinished. This chapter is short, I know, but writing large pieces really isn't a skill of mine.**

**Due to the great response I got from this story, I will be continuing this as a series- the next will be based around Belarus (Natalya Arlovskaya).**

**Until next time!**


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